


To Be Let Alone

by jessaverant



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Corruption, F/F, Mental Health Issues, POV Second Person, Post Raising the Barn, Sad Ending, Self Corruption, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:32:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessaverant/pseuds/jessaverant
Summary: You are alone.You are alone. The word does not carry the weight of what you feel.You are -- remorsefully, oppressively, entirely -- alone.





	To Be Let Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Based from a discussion I had in the Lapidot discord regarding mental illness and accidental self-corruption. WARNING: this ended up being MUCH angstier than I had originally planned, and could be triggering for those fellow mental illness-sufferers. I definitely took cues from my own bad mental health days for this, so please be warned.
> 
> Title is from this quote from L.M. Montgomery: “And if you couldn't be loved, the next best thing was to be let alone.”

You are alone.

You are _alone._ The word does not carry the weight of what you feel.

_You are -- remorsefully, oppressively, entirely -- alone._

\---

You are curled onto your side, knees pressed to your abdomen, arms wrapped around yourself like a string pulled taught. The floor is loosely shuffled dirt and you are lying in a bed of your own miserable making. The walls of this domicile -- a human construction, old when you claimed it, older now -- are bowing inwards from the pressure surrounding it. Every time another wall begins to buckle, you turn your back to it. Ignoring the wall does not make it bow any less.

It figures.

You have been tracing circles in the dirt with your left big toe. You end up wasting what is probably hours doing this -- just watching your toe ellipse over, and over, and over, until you inevitably fall asleep from the monotony. Because sleeping is all you want to do these days. It's all you _can_ do. It's either sleep, or think. And thinking?

Thinking is entirely too much.

\---

You dream about them. You're not sure if you dreamed before being alone, but if you didn't then, you _certainly_ do now.

Steven is always there, first thing. A big smile, bright eyes, warm arms wrapped around you in an undeserving hug. He buries his face in your chest and you wrap your arms back around him, and he's laughing and _holding_ you, and the contact bubbles through you. He takes your hands in his when you inevitably part and asks you with such earnest --

"How are you, Lapis?" And you smile down at him, and squeeze his small hands and respond,

"I'm so much better with you here, Steven." Your chest lightens and he has stars in his eyes.

_How could you ever leave him behind?_

Sometime around this point in the dream, Peridot appears. You're not sure if she was there the entire time or not, but once she is there her presence illuminates your surroundings. She smiles like Steven, but _bigger,_ and _grander,_ and the hug she gives you, well...

You take her in your arms and you're flying. Steven is on your back, and Peridot is hanging from your arms, and the three of you fly as far away as possible from wherever you started. Sometimes you're on the beach, although it's an unfamiliar one; sometimes you're on the edge of the barn's land, but it's different, wider or longer or with a field of wheat instead of corn.

Around this point, the dream begins to turn. It _always_ does, even when you're _praying_ for it not to.

Peridot is slipping from your grip. You can feel her slide, feel her stubby fingers grasp at your arms but you're staring straight ahead, and no matter how much you _will_ your body to _move,_ you continue staring. Steven is speaking but his voice is far away, and suddenly he's below you with Peridot, hanging onto her feet.

And yet, you stare straight ahead.

You manage to wake up before they fall. You are always crying when you do.

\---

The days blur together in space. At some point while living on earth, you had become accustomed to the change in daylight, and now that it was completely gone, it's absence was staggering. It was just one of those things that you hadn't thought of until it was taken from you -- _until you ran away from it._

Trees were another thing you missed. They made you feel safe, and protected. In those early days at the barn, when Peridot's presence was a bit too much and the barn a bit too open, you would take to the trees. You would fly overhead until they were dense and thick, and lightly flutter down onto a branch, back against the trunk, and watch the sunlight move in the leaves. That may have been the first thing you truly _loved_ about earth; those shimmering green leaves, dancing lightly in the breeze. The ones in the tree you normally sat in were bright, bright green, almost _glowing._

Eventually you realized you loved those leaves because they reminded you of Peridot.

_Rain reminded her of you. Rain because it was cleansing -- glittering -- deep, deep blue when reflected against the gray sky. She said all these words to you -- remember? Remember how happy she looked, when she told you? Soaking wet, standing in the rain as if it were the most glorious thing she'd ever experienced?_

You open your mouth to speak, and nothing comes out. It's been months since you've spoken a word. Maybe that's for the best.

_You remember, right? Because she stopped smiling when she noticed your face. Your grimace. Your self-hatred pouring out all over her. Infecting her. Making her--_ forcing _her-- to feel bad about one of her favorite earth phenomena’s. You'll remember that forever, right?_

_Right?_

**_RIGHT?_ **

You bury your face in the dirt.

\---

One day you notice that the tips of your fingers are flecked in gold. Little imperfect circles of bright, shiny gold. They're a part of your skin, you notice, because you try to scratch them off and they remain, no beginning or end, just blending seamlessly into the blue.

The small specks travel up your arms in a dusting, fading before hitting your shoulders. You look down at your dirt-strewn legs and see the same; tips of your toes are gold, with flecks leading up your legs to your knees. Since you spend so much time avoiding your own form, it's also the first time you've truly noticed the layers of mud and dirt caked onto your limbs.

_Stars,_ you think, _a lapis lazuli, dirty?_ You'd laugh if you could. _Homeworld would have a **fit.**_ You idly brush the dried dirt away but it doesn't do much good. You briefly debate reaching into the water bubble holding the barn in stasis but ultimately decide it isn't worth it. You wiggle your gold toes and bury them in the dirt again, laying back down on your back and spreading your arms wide.

_Peridot would have a fit,_ you think. _If you got any dirt near any of her projects--_

You throw your arm over your eyes and bite down on your lower lip. You _have_ gotten dirt on one of her projects before. You wanted to see that face she made, the one with the puffed cheeks and the crossed eyes because you thought it was so _cute._

You bite down harder on your lip but the tears still come, no matter how hard you try.

_"I know, I know, I'm a clod," you had said, a smile on your face. Peridot's face turned bright teal._

You are even worse than a clod.

_You're dust._

\---

Your good days are few and far between. Once in a while, you seriously contemplate going back to earth. You'd leave the barn, save for a few things you'd take back with you -- namely, all the things of Peridot's you kept.

_You are a spiteful little--_

You'd return to earth, and bring everything with you, and you would _grovel_ on your knees in the Temple and beg for forgiveness. Steven would forgive you, right? He was _Steven._ He had a heart as big as Homeworld. He had tried to heal _Jasper._ He had tried to empathize with one of _Pink Diamond's_ rubies.

He had given you a _home._

_What is wrong with you?_

You never do it. Once, you got as far as packing everything up into a pile in the middle of the barn. You turned to the doors, flinging one open, looking past the wall of freezing water and out into the distance, the Milky Way galaxy displayed across your doorstep.

_You're so close._

Maybe even Peridot would forgive you. If you're lucky. Steven would _definitely_ have to help.

_How could you leave Steven behind? After everything he did for you?_

**_What is wrong with you?!_ **

You never make it past the wall you've built. There's always an excuse; you need more time to pack. Your calculations are wrong. It's not a good time; it doesn't _feel_ right.

The most recent time you attempt to leave, you take some of the water that isn't frozen and clean your form. You notice more gold flecks around your ankles and wrists. They're kind of pretty, you think. Steven might like them. The gold has snaked up to your shoulders now, like freckles on humans.

_Peridot loves yellow._

This thought makes your insides curl. You're used to it by now; the stunning pain in your stomach, twisting and knotting and coiling around your icy heart. But thinking of Peridot, of her fondness for the color, how many meep morps she made that were blue and yellow and green--

It was as if someone had taken a shard and drilled it into the knot already hanging heavy inside you.

You clutch your stomach and your arms and you trip backwards until your back is against the wall, and you slide to the floor, head hanging between your knees.

Your feet are dirty again.

You can't even force yourself to cry.

_How hard would it be,_ you wonder, _to shatter myself?_

You had never envied humans more.

\---

You no longer have good days.

You are certain everyone on earth has forgotten you. How long has it been? Days, weeks, months? _Years?_

At one point, you remember that Steven had escaped from Homeworld's dark clutches. They would be after him, wouldn't they?

_You are more powerful than all the other gems on earth,_ you think. _You could have protected him._

_That's why you left, isn't it? You didn't_ want _to fight Homeworld._

You want to protect Steven.

You know it's too late.

_You are the reason Steven is probably -- most likely -- dead._

_You are no better than Homeworld. You never deserved to hide out on earth._

You want to protect Peridot. You know that now. You had the chance and you threw it away. You ripped those bright green leaves from that beautiful tree let them rot on the ground without a second thought. You purposefully take apart the things that bring you joy, and happiness, because you are _broken._ You are _ungrateful._ You are-- you are--

_You should have stayed in that mirror. At least you were useful then._

\---

 You are standing in the center of the barn; you're tired of holding it up. There is gold on your face, and in your hair, and on your back. It shines off the little starlight that comes through the holes in the walls, and you _glitter._

If you were able to see it, you know your gem would be covered in it, too. For the first time in your life, you feel cold. You squeeze your arms and look _up,_ into the hole that is the roof of the barn these days.

The pit in your stomach has evolved. It has grown and snaked its way into your arms and legs, up your torso and down your neck, over your back and it _fills_ you. Your form _pulsates_ with it. You lift your arms and release the water that has been circulating around you for all this time.

As soon as you do, it freezes into small chunks and remains, suspended in the atmosphere, catching the light off the Milky Way's luminescent glow. The wall in front of you, the first to bow and buckle, _finally_ gives up with a heave and a sigh. It collapses back onto the surface of the planet you've been hiding on with a _thwump._

The other three walls follow shortly afterwards. The ceiling collapse inwards but misses you completely, since it was already half-gone. Now it is just you, a collapsed building, and dirt. Dirt that is covering you from your feet to your knees; from your hands to your elbows. From when you had tried to dig deep into the ground and bury yourself.

You raise your head, gold-blue hair stuck to your face, close your eyes, and--

_Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraackkkkkshhhhhh._

You _scream._

You haven't been able to make a sound in who _knows_ how long, but now you are _screaming._ There is no atmosphere on this planet and yet your scream pierces into the night sky with such ferocity that your form flickers.

The pain from inside of you is now somehow outside of you. It is unlike anything you've ever experienced, and it's shooting through your mind like a javelin to the face. You scream, and you _scream,_ and you clap your hands to your head in pain. Your gem is on _fire_ and your form--

The gold is glinting when you force your eyes open. You close them again. Your thoughts are twisted and torn to shreds behind your eyes, and your entire form -- your body, _your_ body -- it shimmers into and out of existence.

You drop to your knees and scream again. The dirt is flaking from your limbs and floating off into space; the gold is forcing it off.

Another small cracking sound.

The pain somehow intensifies.

_This is what you wanted._

You are going to die.

Your hands, which were pressed against your face, feel as if they are vanishing into the rest of your form. Your feet feel like they are melting into the dirt.

Your mind is being pulled apart at the seams.

_This is what you wanted. You are going to die._

**_Good._ **

You think of Peridot. The pain in your gut sharpens.

_"Earth is our home now. Isn't it worth protecting?"_

Yes, you want to say. Your mouth is too occupied with screaming in pain. _Yes. It is. You are worth protecting. Yes, yes, yes yes yesyesyesyesyesyesyes--_ Your thoughts explode. The screaming stops.

The silence of space remains undisturbed.

\---

On earth, on top of a partially-abandoned lighthouse, sit two small figures. One has a pumpkin sitting contentedly in her lap. The other has a small telescope and is pointing out stars in the night sky. It is almost midnight in early summer.

One of the figures has begun to cry.

"...and that one is, uh, Cassiopeia, I think. And -- Peridot? Are you okay?" Steven asks, turning from his book to the Gem beside him.

Peridot is sitting cross-legged, Pumpkin asleep in her lap, staring upwards. Both of her cheeks are stained with huge, glittering tears.

"What?" she says, turning to Steven. "I'm-- oh." The damp air that hits her face alerts her to her tears, and she raises one hand to her cheek in surprise. Steven reaches out and gently brushes some of the tears away, stirring Pumpkin in the process.

"Is something wrong?" Steven asks, abandoning his constellation book beside him and instead turning fully to Peridot. Peridot puts both hands on her cheeks and runs her fingers through the tears currently spilling out from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm fine, Steven," she says, although her voice is unsure. Pumpkin snorts and hops off Peridot's lap in disgruntlement. "At least, I think I am." Steven places his hand over Peridot's on her cheek, and she allows her other hand to fall to her lap.

"If you're sure," Steven says, and he gives her a small smile. Peridot can't help but smile back, and she allows Steven to weave their fingers together between them. They both turn and look up into the evening sky, a slight breeze ruffling their hair.

"D'you think Lapis can see all these stars?" Steven asks. Peridot sighs and wipes another tear away.

"I think so, Steven. I really think so."

**Author's Note:**

> Some lapis lazuli stones have gold flecks due to impurities. My thoughts were that if she were corrupted, she'd gain those impurities.


End file.
